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December 21st came before they knew it. School had let out a few days ago and Steve had been relaxing with Thor, enjoying the break together while they could. The mood was marred by the sadness that he felt at Thor going away but he tried to put on a brave face and enjoy the time he had with Thor before he had to leave. Logically, he knew that Thor wasn’t leaving for long, but he couldn’t help the disappointment that refused to abate.

Steve did not take his anxiety medicine that morning, but he did take his meds with him in case he needed them. He was genuinely curious about the drinking aspect of the holiday, even if he only planned on having one or two drinks. Nothing major. Steve definitely didn’t plan on ever becoming drunk.

When he arrived at Thor’s house early that afternoon he was surprised at how… festive it looked. There was a large, ornate wreath on the door decorated with holly, pine cones, and red ribbons that definitely hadn’t been there yesterday. It was beautiful and, shockingly, real. He could smell the evergreen and the pine from it. It was somewhat strange, honestly. People had wreaths and Christmas trees but in his experience they were always plastic. No one really had the money to buy an authentic tree or wreath every year. Except Thor, apparently.

Once he was inside he was hit with the sense of déjà vu. It was so different. Like during Samhain, the entryway was decorated completely differently from the usual. There was holly hanging from the chandelier and more wreaths decorated the walls. Holly hung from archways where connecting rooms and from the windows. Various kinds of branches, some normal bare and some with some kind of red berries adorned the walls as well. And in the center of the foyer, there was an alter like before, decorated with the various kind of plants in the home and a pair of small figurines, one of an elderly man and the other of a woman. It was beautiful.

“Steve,” Thor greeted him warmly. He leaned down to kiss him. Steve could taste… honey and some other kinds of warm spices on his lips. “Blessed Yule.”

“Blessed Yule, babe,” he mimicked. “You all really go all out for your holidays, don’t you?”

Thor smiled proudly. “Yes, but could the same not be said of most people when observing their religious holidays?”

“I don’t know. I’m not religious, but it’s beautiful,” he said. Thor smiled.

“Come, we were just about to start decorating the tree,” he said, taking his hand and dragging him through to the living room. Steve gaped at the sight. An enormous tree stood proudly in the room reaching up to the high ceiling. There was even a ladder so that decorations could be placed on the upper branches that couldn’t be reached. And it was gorgeous. Odin was at the top of the ladder stringing lights around the tree while Mr. Baker held the ladder steady. Frigga turned as they entered the room and smiled.

“Welcome Steve,” she said, hugging him warmly. “Blessed Yule.”

Steve repeated the greeting dutifully.

“You’re just in time to help us celebrate,” she said, leading him to the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink? We have some eggnog, the nonalcoholic and the alcoholic kind, some mead, beer, glogg--”

“Grog?” he asked.

“No, glogg,” she corrected. “It’s a red wine mulled with spices like cinnamon, clove, orange, cardamom, ginger. It’s a Swedish specialty. It’s delicious.”

She poured a bit in a mug and offered it to him. It was a good thing that his medication was a mild tranquilizer rather than a full blown antianxiety medication like he had when he first started out. He could certainly smell the spices she mentioned, though he wasn’t familiar with most of their flavors. He took a cautious sip. It was sweeter than he expected. The spices didn’t overwhelm the drink and he found that he liked it quite a bit.

“That’s good,” he said. “That’s very good.”

“Do you want some more?” she asked. He nodded. She took his mug and added a mixture of raisins and almonds before she poured the drink into the mug and topped it with cranberries. Steve took a sip. It was sweeter than before and the flavors of the fruits and almonds added to the appeal.

“Do take it easy, though,” she warned. “It’s stronger than it seems. We don’t want you drinking more than you are ready for.”

He sipped it more carefully and returned to the living room. The lights were almost finished being wrapped around the tree.

“So what’s the story behind Yule, anyway?” Steve asked. “Is it similar to Christmas at all?”

“In some ways,” Thor said. “Most religions have some kind of celebration around the winter solstice to celebrate the end of the darkest night and return of the light.”

“Is that why there’s so many lights for Christmas?” Steve asked.

“Well most Christmas traditions come from Yule in some way,” he replied. “Like the tree, the wreaths, hanging up lights, and the mistletoe, of course.”

“Mistletoe is from Yule?” Steve asked with a smile. “I don’t remember that from elementary school.”

“I will be happy to… fill the gaps in your education,” Thor murmured as he pressed a kiss to Steve’s lips. Maybe it was the wine, but Steve’s smile grew.

“I look forward to it,” he whispered.

“Will you two stop snogging for a second and plug in the lights?” Odin shouted from the top of the tree. Thor chuckled lowly before he left to do as requested. The tree lit up in a brilliant display of golden lights and the Odinson household cheered. Odin ambled down the ladder and the family gathered around to start decorating. Frigga handed Steve some ribbons to tie around the branches.

The whole process took about an hour and a half between the drinking, the singing, and the actual decorating. Steve was surprised to learn that Thor was the only one in the family who couldn’t sing. He was also the one who sang the loudest, drowning out everyone else. Steve found himself laughing with his hands covering his ears at the display. Thor made a show at pouting and sang even louder.

“Stop!” he shouted. “Please have mercy! My ears!”

“You cannot silence my golden pipes!” Thor protested. He continued singing the little holiday diddy at the top of his lungs. Steve was saved by the grace of Frigga, who told him to be quiet and make himself useful by putting some more decorations on the tree. She also handed him a couple more ornaments.

“Enjoying yourself, dear?” she asked.

“As long as Thor isn’t singing,” he laughed. She laughed with him.

“I’m sure I don’t know where he gets it,” she said. “No one else in the family is so atrocious at singing, yet he is the one who enjoys it the most.”

“I would have thought that he would have a good baritone voice or something,” Steve said.

“Well, he has a bad baritone,” she said with a smile.

“I can hear you, you know,” Thor shouted from the other side from the tree.

“You know it’s rude to eavesdrop, babe,” Steve replied.

“So is gossip,” he said, coming around the tree. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist. “So where does that leave us?”

Steve giggled. He was on his second mug of the glogg. Thor became suddenly serious and took the mug from his hand and set it aside.

“My love, I think you have had enough of that for now,” he said. Mr. Baker appeared with a tall glass of water. “Please, drink all of this.”

“Why?” he said as he took the glass.

“It will help keep you hydrated,” he answered. Steve took a gulp of the water.

“So what do you do on Yule?” he asked. “Why’s it important?”

“Well in Norse tradition, it’s a time of honoring Baldr,” Thor explained.

“Who is Baldr?”

“He was the god of light and the sun,” Thor said. “He was also the most beautiful and beloved of the gods. His mother Frigga, who was skilled in divining the fates of all things and in changing them, saw that he would be killed. To prevent this from happening, she sought out every living thing and made them swear that they would not harm him.

“After this, the gods would entertain themselves by hurling objects at him and laughing when the fell harmlessly to the ground. They marveled at his invincibility. One god saw their folly: Loki. He went to Frigga and asked her if there was any being that she had neglected to ask for the oath in her quest. She confessed that she had neglected to ask one thing: mistletoe. She said that it was such a small, harmless plant that she did not think it would pose a threat.

“So Loki took some mistletoe and fashioned a spear from it. He gave it to the blind god of darkness, Baldr’s brother, Hodr, and convinced him to throw it at Baldr while the gods were celebrating. The spear pierced him and he fell down dead. All the gods mourned him so much that they decided that one of them should go down to Helheim, the land of the dead, to beg its queen, Hel, to restore the dead god to life.

“She agreed, on the condition that every living thing that loved him, mourned for him. So the gods went out to get everyone to mourn for him. But one being did not, a giantess who lived in a cave. She refused, saying that Hel should be allowed to keep what was hers. And so Baldr remained in Helheim. Legend says that when Ragnarok, the last battle, is complete, Baldr will return to lead the world back to the light.”

Steve whistled then he looked at Loki. “Why’d you kill him, man?”

“I didn’t kill him,” Loki replied with a sly grin. “My god killed him. That I share his name is coincidental.”

“Your god?”

“We all honor the gods,” Frigga explained. “But each of us has one or two that we pay special attention. Loki honors his namesake.”

“You named your son after the trickster god?” Steve asked, bemused.

“There’s an important lesson in the story,” she said. “Frigga went through all that trouble to change fate, and then the gods decided to test it. Don’t flirt with death and act surprised if she returns her affections.”

“So what does this have to do with Yule?” Steve asked.

“We remember, mourn, and honor Baldr on the longest night of the year,” Frigga said. “Then we celebrate and await his return at the beginning of the new cycle when Ragnarok is over.”

“It usually involves drinking, feasting, and staying up until sunrise,” Thor said cheerfully. “Oaths are taken very seriously at Yule, too.”

“That’s the best part,” Loki said. “Seeing what promises you can get out of people.”

“We’re staying up all night?” Steve asked. He looked down at his glass. He seemed to have drank it all during Thor’s story.

“If you’re up for it,” Odin said, glowering at him from the tree. That sounded like a challenge if Steve had ever heard one. And Steve was not about to let Thor’s grumpy father get the last laugh. Maybe it was the alcohol, but he seemed braver for some reason.

“The question is,” Steve said. “Are you up for it, old man?”

Whistles and cheers sounded from the others as Steve and Odin stared each other down, not unlike the last time it happened. Then, to his surprise, Odin smiled. Not out of approval, but as an acceptance of the challenge. Steve had a feeling that this would be an interesting night. -------------------------------------------------------------------------

Some hours later, after dinner had been consumed, The family went off in different directions to see to their own festivities. Odin and Frigga went around the house burning something Thor called smudge sticks that filled the house with scents like rosemary, pine, and cedar. It might not be Christmas, but it certainly smelled like it. Loki was sewing something called poppets to look like gingerbread people, which Thor said were meant to attract something during the new year, like love, prosperity, or protection.

“So what do you do?” Steve asked Thor. they were sitting on the couch admiring the tree. Thor was on his 5th drink, whereas Steve had decided he was done for the night at his third. HI shead was clearing up and he decided that while the buzz was interesting, he had no real interest in experiencing drunkenness. He was afraid of what could happen. But he trust Thor enough that he was mostly relaxed around him while he was drinking.

“Well, I do have a personal favorite,” he said. He set his drink down on the coffee table and held up some kind of weed. He wiggled his eyebrows.

“What is that?” Steve said. “And why do you seem excited about it?”

“Mistletoe,” Thor said. Steve immediately blushed. “You know the tradition, yes?”

Steve pressed a light, teasing kiss to Thor’s lips.

“Happy?” he asked, his voice lower and huskier than he meant it. Thor pouted.

“You tease,” he whined. Steve grinned and pressed another longer kiss to his lips. Thor returned it gently, opening his mouth to grant Steve access. Steve straddled his lover’s hips to get better leverage. His lover’s hands immediately went to his back and wandered down until one found its perch on the curve of his ass and the other groped his thigh. He could taste the honey and cinnamon on his tongue from the mead he’d been drinking. It was… intoxicating.

Thor bucked his hips and Steve gasped as he felt Thor’s arousal against his own. His jeans were suddenly very uncomfortable. He tugged at Thor’s hair, urging him on--

Someone cleared their throat. Steve practically jumped off Thor. His blush grew even more when he realized who caught them. Odin. Frigga was covering her mouth with a hand, but there was amusement in her eyes as she regarded them. Odin looked annoyed more than anything.

“The next time the… mood strikes you,” he ground out. “Please find some place more private. There are other people in the house, you know.”

Steve looked down at the floor as he nodded. He could not meet Odin’s eye.

“Sorry father,” Thor said.

Steve considered letting the couch swallowing him when Odin huffed and walked out. He looked up in time to see Frigga give them a conspiratorial wink before she followed. As soon as they were gone, Thor reached over for him to take his hand. Steve avoided his touch.

“I need some air,” he said as he got up. “I’ll be back soon.”

He reached the porch and exhaled, watching his cloud of breath appear, then vanish before his eyes. He didn’t particularly like the cold or the winter. It was hard to appreciate the cold when there were months when his mom wasn’t sure if she would have the money to pay the heating bill. That concern had vanished when Joe died. Not having someone drain the finances buying drinks did marvels for the budget, it seemed.

Still, there were times when he relished the cold. Like now, when he needed to clear his head. He looked up at the lights from the city. They reminded him of the lights on the tree inside. They were beautiful. And tonight he could see a crescent moon shining above them. It wasn’t bright enough to illuminate the yard, but it was still lovely.

“Come to clear your head, boy?” asked a voice. Steve jumped and turned to find Odin leaning on the doorframe behind him. His face was stern, almost like how he imagined Santa with a bowel movement. “You act as though I am about to beat you, you know. You needn’t worry. You might be an ungrateful upstart, but I won’t do you harm.”

“Thanks,” he drawled. “It helps to clear my head. The cold, I mean.”

“Heh. You would like Sweden, then,” he said walking closer. “Don’t cower, boy, I am not here to pummel you. Stand up straight like a man.”

Steve found himself obeying without question. Odin had a commanding presence about him, almost like he had spent time in the military. He brooked no nonsense and suffered no fools. It made people listen. His gaze was cold and assessing. Steve could see the shrewd intellect that had secured him the position of ambassador to the United States. Politicians didn’t get anywhere by being trusting. He braced his hands on the railing in front of and turned that calculating gaze on Steve.

“How much has Thor told you about Yule?” he asked.

“Well, he told me about Baldr’s death,” he admitted.

“Good,” Odin said. “He honors Baldr, it is only natural that he should tell you about his god’s demise.”

“It was interesting,” he said lamely. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. “He also said to be careful of oaths.”

“Well, at least he’s ensured you will not do something stupid,” Odin said. Then he regarded him with a scowl. “One of the other purposes of Yule is to air grievances.”

There it is, Steve thought. He braced himself.

“I do not like you,” Odin said.

“The feeling is mutual,” Steve asked, trying to sound casual.

“I think that you are weak,” Odin said. “My wife and son tell me that you suffer from panic attacks, but that just means that you are ruled by fear. There is no way you could be worthy of my son.”

The words came like a punch in the gut. It took the wind out of him. He could do nothing but gaze up at the old man, his jaw hanging open uselessly.

“Were you simply unsure of yourself, that would be one thing,” he continued. “You are a boy. It is only natural. But you are simply a coward who lacks the nerve to admit or the balls to be a man.”

“It’s true,” Steve said. His heart was racing, but he would be damned before he let Thor’s father bully him into submission. “I have Panic Disorder. I live in constant fear of when my next panic attack will strike. I struggle with anxiety on a daily basis and it’s taken me nearly a year and a half of therapy to learn how to live with it. But don’t make the mistake of thinking that you understand what my life has been like. Why should that make me unworthy?”

“You are ashamed of yourself,” Odin said, eying him. “For all your bravado, you see yourself as weak. I can see it in your eyes. You don’t think you are worthy either.”

Again, it hit him like a punch in the gut. Odin certainly knew how to get to people. He wasn’t wrong. He constantly wondered if this was a dream, if he would wake up and cold reality would set in because the only way any of this could be true was if it was a dream.

“How can I think that you are worthy if you cannot think it yourself?” Odin demanded. “I’ve seen your like before. Thor has always attracted men like you to him. He’s too softhearted. He got himself hurt because they both took advantage of his kindness in one way or another.”

Steve was silent at that. He had never really asked in detail about Thor’s exes. He only knew that he had some because he had mentioned them in passing. He could not deny that even though Thor lavished him with affection and assured him that he was more than enough, he often wondered if he actually deserved this.

“So here is my grievance,” Odin said. “I think you will break my son’s heart. You will hurt him and I would have sought to prevent his being hurt again, but it seems that he has already fallen for you. I can only hope that he will decide at some point to end it himself first.”

“You think you know what is best,” Steve found himself saying. “But you’re the one letting fear rule you. Fear that you can’t protect him. You barely know me. You’ve judged me based on a panic attack and on Thor’s past relationships, people I’ve never even met. How can you say that you know what I will do when all you really know about me is that I have chronic anxiety?”

Odin was silent, aside from a scoff.

“I promise that everything that I want from Thor comes from good intentions,” he said. “I will not toss aside the kindness Thor has shown me just because you think we’re a bad match.”

“An oath on Yule. Even after Thor’s warning,” Odin drawled. “How poetic.”

He drew himself up to his full height and glowered down at Steve, contempt smoldering in his eye. He suddenly seemed like a giant to Steve, ready to crush him if he didn’t say the right thing.

“If you break your oath,” he growled. “I will see that you suffer.”

“You would hardly be the first,” Steve said. The lump in his throat made it sound more breathy and meek than he would have preferred.

“But,” Odin said. “If you are telling the truth, if your relationship with my son lasts until the day after your year anniversary, I will give your relationship my blessing.”

“Deal,” Steve said. He held out his hand. Odin took it in a strong, firm grip. Whether it was magic, whether there were gods or spirits or angels bearing witness to their bargain, whether it was something inherently about the season, it felt very solemn. Like this truly wasn’t something that could be broken without consequences. As Steve watched Odin go back into the house, he had to wonder if he had just done something rash.

Either way, he had no intention of letting Odin win. He had been with Thor for three months now. It seemed like such a short amount of time, and at the same time, it felt like it had been forever. And even though he struggled daily with feeling inadequate, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

His reverie was interrupted by a crash and shouting. Steve hurried inside to find Thor and Loki grappling on the floor.

“Shouldn’t we do something?” Steve asked. Frigga chuckled.

“Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “They do this every year, since Thor honors Baldr and Loki, well, take a guess.”

“You killed my god!” Thor roared. He had his brother in a headlock. Loki laughed and jabbed Thor in the stomach with an elbow.

“Your god was an idiot,” Loki replied with a sardonic grin. He ran outside and into the yard and Thor gave chase, hollering all the way.

Steve watched in amazement as they wrestled and fought on the lawn. Their styles were completely different. Thor was more strength oriented and tried to overpower Loki. His brother, on the other hand was slippery and dextrous. It was fascinating to watch, but Thor eventually managed to pin his brother to the ground, which was no less impressive for the fact that he was drunk.

“Yield,” he growled. Loki struggled, but Thor had managed to keep him pinned to the cold earth.

“Fine, I yield,” Loki groaned. Thor jumped up and cheered and ran up the steps to capture Steve in a fierce, victorious embrace and kissed him. Steve laughed into his lover’s mouth.

Yeah, he thought. There’s no way I’m letting that old Grinch win. -------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sometime around midnight, the Odinson family gathered around their tree and began their gift exchange. It was an interesting sight, as Steve had never before seen gifts being exchanged between a family when half of them were half drunk. He was also shocked to discover that he was being included in the exchange. He was suddenly glad he had brought gifts, though it was nothing special. Odin didn’t give him anything and he was glad for it because he didn’t have anything for him, to be honest.

Frigga gave him more art supplies, which was good because he was starting to run low and this would surely last him a while. Loki gave him a pair of little puppets (he called them, “poppets,” though) that looked like gingerbread people.

“This one’s meant to attract love,” he said, pointing to one that had more pink decorations, like hearts and flowers. The other had a bit of mistletoe pinned to it and a shield. “And that one is for protection.”

“Do I keep it with me or…?” Steve asked.

“You can,” Loki said. “Or you can keep it in your room to ward off negative energies.”

“Cool,” Steve said. He meant it. He had no idea Loki was so skilled. “Thank you, Loki.”

Loki actually seemed bashful at the praise. “It’s nothing,” he said.

Steve got up and hugged him. Loki made a groan of disgust in protest.

“Thor, your boyfriend is hugging me,” he whined.

“Yeah he is,” Thor said, raising his bottle of mead. He had taken a break for a few hours but resumed drinking for the gift exchange. Steve himself had another mug of glogg sitting on the coffee table. But just the one. He had already drank more tonight than he ever planned on drinking in general. He’d probably go a few months without.

“Tell him to stop,” Loki said.

“Come on, brother, it’s Yule!” Thor said cheerfully. “Live a little.”

Loki grumbled and returned the hug.

“You’re welcome,” he muttered. Steve finally let him go.

Thor actually had to leave the room to get his present to Steve. He returned with a large canvas that Steve recognized as one of Frigga’s painting canvases. He gasped as he turned it around and revealed a painting of the two of them dancing under the moonlight. It was similar to their Homecoming date. There were some artistic liberties taken, such as the fact that instead of anywhere in New York, they were dancing under a grove of pine trees covered in snow lit in the holiday style with a full moon shining down on them. It was beautiful and he actually teared up at the sight.

“I commissioned this a few weeks ago,” he said. “I could not think of anything else that you would want, so--”

Steve tackled him with a hug before he could finish.

“I love it,” he said. He looked at Frigga. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, dear,” she said.

Steve got out his sketchbook and carefully removed one of the pictures. It was a new one that he had finished recently, of Thor and Loki grappling and smiling like the rambunctious brothers they were. He handed it to Frigga who looked at it and smiled as her fingers traced the lines of their faces.

“Thank you, Steve,” she said. “It’s beautiful. A mother can never have too many pictures of her children.”

To Loki, he handed a picture of him as a mad scientist. Loki laughed when he saw himself holding a vial of some kind of mixture grinning like a madman under a transformer shooting electricity. Thor rolled his eyes.

Finally, to Thor, he gave him the completed version of a picture he had been working on recently. Thor was sitting on a white horse, his armor gleaming in the light of the sun shining down overhead, his red cape draped behind him. His family was behind him, smiling faces throwing flowers on the ground beneath the horse. Thor was looking directly at the viewer with a smile on his face as he held out his hand.

“I recognize this,” Thor said. “This is the one you started a month ago at the beginning of the Thanksgiving break.”

“Yeah,” Steve said with a blush. “It’s not much, but--”

Thor silenced him with a kiss. Steve sighed in spite of himself.

“I love it, älskling,” he said. “It is beautiful.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“But where are you?” he asked.

“Umm… well, this is from a dream I had, so…” he said.

“So I am looking at you in this picture?” Thor asked with a sloppy grin.

“Yes?” Steve replied. Thor smiled again and kissed him. It was a bit clumsy, since he was drunk, but Steve was becoming more comfortable around it. As long as Thor was there, anyway.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Happy Yule.”

“Happy Yule, Thor,” he replied. “I love you, too.” -------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thor didn't make it until sunrise, but he did manage to make it to the porch with Steve about an hour before dawn. Where he promptly fell asleep with his head resting in Steve's lap. Steve smiled at the sight and tangled his fingers in his golden locks as he waited in silence for the sunrise.

The rest of the family was quiet too, as if the night of celebration was replaced with a heavy solemnity. Mr. Baker, Mrs. Bianchi, and the rest of the household staff had turned in hours ago. They weren't pagan, so they weren't required to observe their employers’ religious holidays. All of them had at one point in time, but not this year.

Steve had never actually seen the sun rise over New York City. His apartment buildings generally didn't let residents on the roof. Also, as a 19 year old, any time before the sun before had been in the sky for a few hours was too early to be out of bed. He was fighting the urge to close his eyes and curl himself around Thor's sleeping form.

The sky overhead began to lighten gradually. Black started to soften to pale orange and yellow. All of them were silent, apart from Thor's soft snoring, as the dawn after the longest night arrived. Steve captured the image in his mind. Somewhere in the back of his artist mind he wondered what it would be like to watch the sunrise from the top of the Empire State Building. But the part of him that was terrified of heights dismissed that almost immediately.

The sun began to peak over the horizon, a fragile orange sliver of light breaking through the night. Soon the night gave way to the pale light of the morning and the sky turned from black to shades of blue and yellow. And maybe there was actually some magic there or perhaps the sunlight triggered some part of his brain, but Steve felt his spirit lift. Like something new had begun.

When the sun had fully risen, the Odinsons began to taper off to bed. Odin paused long enough to nod at Steve in acknowledgment of his small victory. Steve would have felt smug but an enormous yawn reminded him that he was dog tired. He shook his boyfriend gently until he started awake.

“The sun's up,” he said.

“Huzzah,” Thor murmured. “Blessed Yule.”

“Blessed Yule,” he parroted. “Now do you think we can start the year off right and go to bed?”

“Sleep first, älskling,” he murmured, nuzzling his face in his lap. “Sex later.”

Steve was too tired to chastise him. Instead he just yawned and waited for Thor to get up. His legs were starting to fall asleep. They staggered to the bedroom, Thor stopping to drink some water. As they climbed into bed to sleep the day away, Steve tried to think about anything but the fact that he was leaving.

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